


Recycled Elves

by jdrush



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The X-Files
Genre: AU, Crossover, F/M, Humor, M/M, Parody, Romance, badfic, but in a good way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: Elves are frolicking in D.C. – Doggett and Reyes decide to investigate.
Relationships: John Doggett/Monica Reyes, Walter Skinner/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Recycled Elves

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: XF stuff belongs to CC, 1013, and FOX. Tolkien stuff belongs to, well, J.R.R. Tolkien, and New Line Cinemas. I own none of it, and made no profit from this story. And to the great Professor . . . I deeply, deeply apologize. 
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I 'sampled' a line from "Bad Blood", and stole a line directly from "The Unnatural'. The whole thing takes place sometime during season 9, I suppose – if I HAVE to put a timeline on it. 
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTES PART 2: I wrote this story, oh wow, about 15 years ago. It's weird and silly, and yes, it still makes me laugh.  
> The title comes from an interview with Lord of the Rings assistant casting director, Miranda Rivers (see below). No betas were hurt or injured during the writing of this story. Any mistakes are my own.

_**"Elves had to be 5'10" or more for women, over six feet for men,** _   
_**very slim, fair skinned and utterly beautiful.** _   
_**Most New Zealanders just don't look like that!** _   
_**We had to recycle Elves a lot, which made continuity a nightmare."** _

A.D. Skinner sat at his desk, staring at his two prized agents who were sitting across from him. He didn't need a mirror to show the look of utter disbelief on his face. "Could you please repeat that, Agent Doggett?" he asked the head of his X-Files division. "I must be hearing things. It sounded like you said 'elves'."

"Yes, sir. I did, sir," Doggett replied promptly and courteously.

"Elves," Skinner repeated, incredulously. "We have elves prancing around D.C.?"

"Elf, sir," Monica Reyes corrected. "There's only one, as far as we know."

"Actually, sir, there were a couple of reports indicatin' that there may be two," Doggett injected. "And they weren't 'prancing'."

"At least none of the eyewitnesses mentioned prancing," Reyes smiled. "And it's not D.C. proper . . . ."

"Rock Creek Park, to be precise," Doggett concluded.

"And you want to investigate this . . . phenomena," Skinner said, slowly.

Both Reyes and Doggett nodded. "Yes, sir," they responded together.

Skinner looked back and forth between the two agents, the mumbled question out of his mouth before he could censor it, "Have either of you been drugged?"

If they heard his snide comment, they didn't acknowledge it – or at least Agent Reyes didn't. "We have a stack of eyewitness accounts claiming to have seen it, sir," she informed her boss. "I think it's at least in our best interest to check this out."

Skinner stood up from behind his desk and moved to the window. He looked out over the city for a moment before turning his gaze back on his agents. "You know, I would have expected something this outrageous from Mulder. No, actually I take that back." The A.D. tried to keep his words low and steady, but found his voice rising in volume with each passing sentence. "He might have hit me with werewolves, aliens, vampires, and a liver-eating mutant, but even HE never asked to investigate ELVES!"

"But, sir . . ."Doggett began, until he was instantly cut off by the incensed assistant director.

"What's the matter? Things get boring up at Santa's Workshop, so they decided to check out the action in the nation's capital?"

"I don't think it's that kind of elf, sir," Reyes said, calmly.

Skinner blinked once, twice. "Are you suggesting there are different kinds of elves, Agent?" A response was forming on Reyes' lips, but Skinner ignored her, answering his own question, "Oh yes, of course. How could I forget? Perhaps the poor things just got tired of baking cookies in that damn tree all day long, right?"

Reyes looked over at her partner, sensing they were quickly losing any shred of credibility the case may have had. Doggett squared his shoulders and tried, "Look, sir – I know this sounds hard to believe, but we won't know what we're dealing with until we check into it."

"I thought that's what the X-Files were about, sir," Reyes added. "Investigating the implausible. Explaining the unexplainable."

"But we're talking about ELVES!" Skinner bellowed. "Like Puck in that Shakespeare play . . . ." The sentence trailed off, as the A.D. forgot the name of the play. "You know what I'm talking about."

"A Midsummer Night's Dream," Doggett supplied.

"Yeah, that one."

"Actually, sir, Puck was a sprite, not an elf," Reyes corrected helpfully.

"I don't care if he was a can of Mountain Dew!" Skinner fired back. Returning to his seat, he leaned back into his chair and muttered, "I can't BELIEVE we're having this discussion."

"But sir . . ." Reyes started.

"No buts, Agent Reyes. I expected better from you – from both of you. I thought you to be more professional than this."

"Sir, just give us one night," Doggett pleaded. "Just to see if the reports . . . ."

Skinner's strong, blunt fingers were now massaging the bridge of his nose, as if trying to fend off an impending migraine. After a moment, he handed down his verdict. "No. Absolutely not. I won't have the F.B.I. made a laughing stock if it ever gets out we're looking into the criminal activity of mythological creatures!"

"We never said the elf was doing anything criminal," Reyes pointed out.

"Even more reason to leave it alone – IF it exists," Skinner replied.

Seeing his opportunity slipping away, Doggett gave it one last shot. "Sir . . . ."

Off came the glasses in one fluid motion; they were slammed onto the desk with enough force to shatter them, and both agents were surprised they had survived intact. With his most threatening A.D. voice, Skinner growled, "I want you both to listen and listen good. I am not signing off on this request, and you will not waste the Bureau's time or resources on this frivolous case." Taking a second to add more force behind his glower, he added an ominous, "Am I understood?"

Reyes, who had been thrown back into her chair by the outburst mumbled a meek, "Yes, sir." Doggett, however, remained silent, his only response a full-fledged icy glare.

Skinner picked up on his agent's defiance and asked low and menacingly, "Did you hear me, Agent Doggett?"

Steel-blue eyes flashed with suppressed anger and humiliation. "Loud and clear, sir," he answered between gritted teeth.

"Good." Skinner shut the file folder and handed it back to Doggett. "This is the last we will ever mention this, right?" Two heads bobbed up and down in the affirmative. "Good," Skinner said again. "Dismissed."

Doggett and Reyes both stood up and sheepishly headed for the door. As they were leaving the office, they distinctly heard a disgusted mutter, "Elves. Sheesh!"

**DOWNSTAIRS IN THE BASEMENT:**

"That certainly could have gone better," Reyes sighed, flopping into her chair.

Doggett, however, was too wound up to sit down, and started pacing around their tiny office like a caged lion. "Didn't he seem a little TOO worked up about this case? I mean, really agitated? Shit, I bet he never acted that way when Muldah hit him with one of his outlandish 302's."

"Well, you have to admit, John – even for an X-File, it was quite a stretch," Reyes tried to placate.

Doggett paused momentarily in his pacing to look over at his partner. "Monie, we have twelve different eyewitness accounts, including two from police officers. Different days but all the same location, evening hours, starting five days ago. All the reports are alike – a tall, thin luminous creature that seems to appear out of the woods, and can disappear in the blink of an eye. Sometimes it's seen in the company of another UNSUB. Hell, it's more comprehensive than most reports we've followed up on, and it's definitely a valid investigation for our department."

"Not according to Skinner."

"Yeah, well, what he doesn't know . . ." Doggett muttered under his breath.

"Johnny . . . I don't like your tone. Or that gleam in your eye."

Doggett didn't pay her any mind – he was too busy grabbing items off his desk. "Look, Skinner only said we couldn't use the Bureau's time or resources, right? He didn't say nuthin' about PERSONAL time."

"My God, John, he's right," Reyes said, her tone a mixture of awe and trepidation. "You ARE starting to sound like Mulder."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Snatching his coat from the rack near the door, he added, "Cover for me," and dashed from the office.

Reyes just smirked at the retreating figure and chirped, "Rebel."

**THAT NIGHT:**

Following information collected from the eyewitness reports, Agent Doggett arrived at the park early and staked out his location, a cluster of secluded rocks not too far from the sightings. Hours went by where the only other life forms that crossed his path were squirrels and birds looking for a late bite before heading back home to their nests for the night. By 11:00 p.m. Doggett was starting to think they had the right idea and was just about to fly home to his own nest when out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a glimmering image. Whipping his head around, he found himself staring at . . . the elf.

Holy SHIT! It was true! If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it. Just as the reports had stated, the creature was tall and willowy, with long shoulder-length wheat-blond hair that literally shined in the moonlight. His skin, creamy and pale, seemed to glow with an unnatural incandescent quality; his ears were small and dainty with elegant pointed tips. He was dressed in a simple moss-green tunic and darker green leggings, his feet clad in a pair of knee-high leather boots. A dark gray cloak was draped around his shoulders and clasped under his long, smooth throat. In his hand he carried a beautifully carved bow; across his back was slung a quiver of arrows.

Doggett closed his eyes and shook his head, clearly thinking he was imagining the creature in front of him, but when he opened his eyes once more, the elf was still there. He was pacing the perimeter of the clearing he stood in, his movements cautious, soundless, and graceful, much like a cat. Obviously satisfied that he was safe, he sat down on the grass. Pulling his long legs up to his chest, he wrapped his lean arms around them as he tilted his head back and began to sing softly, the melody wistful and full of longing.

No doubt about it, Doggett thought, this HAS to be a dream! There was no way this could be real. But he never had a chance to find out. As he tried to silently slip off the rock he had been sitting on to get a closer look, he discovered to his horror that his leg had fallen asleep. He crashed to ground with a muffled, "SonuvaBITCH!" Jumping to his feet as quickly as he could he looked up, only to see the elf sprinting off into the woods. He attempted to give chase, but hadn't taken three steps before the creature was gone.

"DAMMIT!" he cursed, then trudged back to his car in disgust.

**THE NEXT MORNING:**

Agent Reyes was working on her second cup of coffee when Doggett dragged his ass into their basement office – unshaven, hair tousled, tie askew, suit wrinkled as if he had slept in it. Actually, Reyes mused, he might have just done that, since it was the same one he had been wearing the day before. Her eyes grew wide at her partner's unusually disheveled appearance and she gasped, "Jesus, John, what the hell happened to you?"

"Couldn't sleep last night," he mumbled distractedly, making his way over to the coffee pot. But when he tried to pour himself a cup, he discovered his hand was shaking too much. Reyes stepped forward and took the pot from him. She poured some into a mug, careful not to fill it, then handed it to him. He sighed a grateful, "Thank you," then turned towards his desk and practically dropped into his chair.

Concerned, Reyes walked over to his desk, and took a seat on the edge of it. "John, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Doggett took a couple of shaky sips of his coffee before he answered hesitantly, "No . . . an elf."

"You're shitting me, right?" Reyes laughed. When Doggett shook his head 'no' she whispered, "You really saw the elf?" He didn't reply verbally, just nodded 'yes'. Reyes' hand flew up to her mouth as she squealed, "Oh my GOD! What did it look like?"

"Tall, thin, lithe," Doggett recited from memory. "Pale skin, long blond hair, pointy ears . . . ."

"Pointy ears?" she interrupted, seeking clarification. "Like Spock ears?"

"No, not really. They were small and dainty, with these sorta . . . delicate tips . . . ." Doggett blushed, knowing he sounded like an idiot, and ended with a mumbled, "Kinda cute."

Reyes looked at him dubiously. "Well, except for the pointy ears, it sounds like you're describing Langly. Are you sure it wasn't him and a bunch of his D&D buddies messing around?"

"Quite sure," Doggett stately definitely, swallowing the rest of his coffee. "This creature was elegant and graceful, and moved faster and more silently that any human could. He seemed to radiate light, pure and white." Doggett sighed dreamily, "He was beautiful . . . simply beautiful."

"HE?" Reyes echoed, her tone playful. "Is there something I should know?"

"I can't describe it, Monie. He just . . . affected me." Doggett's shoulders sagged dejectedly. "I couldn't take my eyes off of him."

"Well, you know, some legends say that elves can enchant and ensnare mere mortals," Reyes informed him.

Big blue eyes grew bigger. "Really? You think I was 'enchanted' or somethin'?"

One shapely eyebrow quirked as Reyes teased, "You're asking me? Do I look like an elf-expert?"

"Well, you ARE the one who suggested to Skinner there are different kinds of elves," Doggett reminded her. "I thought you knew what you were talking about."

"Only what I've read in Tolkien. And from sitting in on some of Langly's fantasy games."

After a beat, Doggett asked, "You don't happen to know one, do you?" his voice filled with desperation.

"One what?"

"An elf-expert?"

That got Reyes giggling. "You know, Johnny, I think this job is starting to get to you."

He snorted disgustedly. "Tell me about it."

"So, what was this beautiful elf doing?" she quizzed.

"Singing."

"Singing?" she repeated.

"Yeah. I don't know what he was saying 'cause he was singing real softly. But the song sounded so sad, Monie. Full of yearning and . . . I don't know. Like his heart was calling out for something."

"Or someone," Reyes mused, thoughtfully.

"The second elf?"

"Possibly. Or he could have been singing about his home."

Doggett snapped his fingers. "Of course. That makes sense. He might be lost, huh? I mean, why else would an elf be hanging 'round D.C.?"

"Cherry Blossom time?" she suggested playfully.

"Not funny," Doggett reprimanded.

"Sorry. So, are you going to take this to Skinner again?" Reyes inquired. "I think we have enough evidence now to get that 302 signed."

"Uh-uh – no way. He made it quite clear that I wasn't to go near this case. If I tell him I went behind his back, he'll have my head."

"Then what are you going to do?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Doggett replied, "Go back there tonight. If his pattern holds true, he'll be there again."

"And if he is?" Reyes pressed.

"I'll try to make contact. Find out what he wants."

"Sounds like a good plan." With that, Reyes hopped off Doggett's desk and headed towards her own. Taking a seat, she started digging in one of her drawers.

"Whatcha looking for?" Doggett asked, curiously.

"Frohike gave me his . . . ahhh . . . here it is." She held up a white business card triumphantly. "I'll just ring up the Gunmen and see if they have any stuff we can use, like infrared binoculars or a camera or something."

"WE? Does that mean you're coming with me?"

Phone attached to her ear, Reyes gave him a beaming smile and exclaimed. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Then, turning her attention to the phone, she said, "Hey, Frohike? It's me, Monica. Turn off the machine. No. Seriously. Turn it off. Okay. The reason I'm calling is – we need a big favor . . . ."

**THAT NIGHT:**

"John, how much longer?" Reyes asked, her tone a tad whiny.

"Just a few minutes," he answered distractedly, his entire focus on the spot he saw the elf the night before.

"You said that two hours ago," and this time the whine was quite distinct. "Are you sure this is the right spot?"

"Yes, now hush up. We don't want to scare him away."

It was quiet for a minute before Reyes mumbled a petulant, "I'm cold."

Doggett sighed, and tore his gaze away from the clearing. Turning to his pretty pouting partner, he took her hands between his and started rubbing them between his. "Better?"

Wish you were rubbing something else, Reyes thought, but instead just sighed, "Yeah. Much better."

As he continued to rub her hands between his, he quietly pledged, "Midnight. We'll stay until midnight, okay?"

"I'm holding you to that," she grinned.

Even though Monica's hands were now nice and toasty, Doggett was reluctant to release them. He glanced at his partner, the moonlight painting her hair and brushing softly over her cheeks, and felt his chest tighten at how beautiful she was. If only he could tell her how much he loved her – how much he wanted to be her partner outside of work as well as within the Hoover's walls. If only . . . .

Before the thought could complete itself, Doggett once again saw a flicker out of the corner of his eye that drew his attention. Pulling his gaze away from Reyes, he looked towards the clearing and gasped, "Monie . . . look. There he is." He dropped her hands to point towards the strange creature that had suddenly appeared.

All thoughts of cold hands vanished as Reyes' eyes nearly popped out of her head and she stammered, "NO . . . FREAKING . . . WAY!"

Doggett immediately scolded her, whispering a low warning, "Shhhh! Not so loud! You'll scare him off."

They both watched in amazed silence as the elf repeated his actions from the night before, thoroughly scouting out the perimeter of the clearing, taking his time to do the job right. Just as he finished the final round a second figure came out of the woods and started heading towards him. The elf didn't panic this time as he had with Doggett, however. He stood his ground, and waited for the figure to approach him.

"Who's that?" Reyes wondered.

"I don't know," Doggett answered. "Hand me the glasses."

Reyes handed over the binoculars that the Gunmen had loaned her. Doggett eagerly brought them to his face, but after messing with the focus for a few seconds, he cursed, "Dammit! I can't see a thing! I thought you were getting night-vision goggles?"

"The guys couldn't find them," Reyes apologized. "Frohike thinks Langly lost them when he went to see Green Day in concert last month. He said these might work, but I guess not, huh?"

"SHIT! What about the camera?"

"Infrared."

"Got it?"

"Locked and loaded."

"Then get to it."

While Reyes set about snapping off some shots of the two individuals, Doggett fired up the high-powered surveillance microphone they had hidden in the underbrush earlier in the night. Both he and Reyes affixed their earpieces, then he turned on the tape recorder.

Unlike the binoculars, the mike worked perfectly, as a melodic, lightly English-accented voice came through loud and clear: "My lord – I knew you would return to me." Though they couldn't see who had spoken, both agents assumed it to be the elf.

Another voice, this one richer and deeper, sans English-accent, answered, "As if I could stay away from you, my fair Legolas."

At hearing that, Reyes gave a surprised squeak. She instantly tried to cover it up by bringing her hand up to her mouth, dropping the camera in the process. "What?" Doggett whispered, harshly.

"Legolas is the name of one of the elves in the Lord of the Rings books," Reyes informed her partner. "The one who joins the Fellowship."

"Fellowship?"

Reyes stared at Doggett in amazement. "Didn't you ever read the books?"

"Never got around to them."

"Or see the movie?"

A shoulder-shrug. "No car chases or explosions."

Reyes sighed deeply and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Just know that Legolas was one of the Nine Walkers who helped save Middle-Earth."

"And now he's standing in a park in D.C."

"Seems that way."

"But that's not possible, Monie," Doggett hissed. "It was only a BOOK!"

"So is the Bible – and they're still debating if those stories are true or not," Reyes responded.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Reyes paused before she haltingly replied, "Maybe Tolkien had some . . . inspiration."

"Monie, please tell me you're not seriously implying that the author of Lord of the Rings was . . . VISITED . . . by this . . . creature," Doggett chuckled, without much humor.

"Truth is always stranger than fiction, John," Reyes replied sagely. "It may go a long way towards explaining how detailed everything was – the topography, the history, the lineages, the languages. Perhaps Tolkien received all his information first-hand from . . . HIM," and she pointed once more to the ethereal creature standing in the clearing.

Doggett ran a weary hand over his face and muttered half-heartedly, "Maybe Skinner was right and we HAVE been drugged!"

"John . . . you have to open yourself up to extreme possibilities."

"Like the possibility that one of the most beloved and respected series of books of the 20th century came about because an ELF showed up on some guy's doorstep and dictated his life's story?" Doggett quipped.

Reyes smirked, "Doesn't get more extreme than that, does it?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't those stories take place hundreds of years ago?" Doggett asked, reasonably. "How can that be the same elf – IF it's really an elf?"

"Elves are immortal," Reyes answered, simply.

Doggett groaned, "Oh, shit! I can't handle this."

A gentle hand patted his in sympathy. "You're doing fine, John," Reyes said softly. "You've come so far. I'm proud of you." Doggett couldn't help the smile that crossed his face at his partner's praise. With that, he picked up the camera she had dropped and resumed snapping pictures of their suspects, while both agents listened to the conversation through their earpieces:

"I came looking for you last night," the second elf said.

"I was here, my lord, but the Fates conspired against our meeting."

"Nothing bad, I hope."

"Just prying eyes that were not meant to see our secret."

"You were discovered? You weren't hurt, were you?" The rich voice was filled with concern.

A bell-like laugh rang through the night. "Nay, my lord. I managed to slip away without revealing myself too badly." Softer, with a sigh, "I am sorry I disappointed you."

Low rumble of a chuckle. "You could never disappoint me, Legolas. But I did miss you."

"As I missed you, my lord," Legolas purred, falling into the other's open arms. And in front of the startled F.B.I. agents, they leaned in and kissed.

"What the hell is going on here?" Doggett mumbled.

"I'm not quite sure," Reyes replied hesitantly, her eyes glued to the two beings who were currently twined together, their breathless moans echoing in her ears.

"Does Tolkien say anything about elves being . . . well . . ." Doggett gestured vaguely towards the couple, "like THIS?"

"Actually, I don't think that other one is an elf," Reyes mused.

"Why not?"

"He's wearing a Washington Nationals baseball hat and glasses," Reyes pointed out.

Doggett had gotten so wrapped up in the drama in front of him that he hadn't even noticed that oddity. Some investigator YOU are, John-boy! Instead of admitting his lack of attention to detail, he simply confessed, "Monie – I'm confused."

Reyes' forehead furrowed as she admitted, "Yeah, me too."

While they were still sitting there, mulling over the strange situation, the two bodies broke apart abruptly. As the agents watched in rapt fascination for what would happen next, Legolas turned around and faced a large oak tree. He wrapped his arms around the sturdy trunk, looking as if he was giving it a big hug. The other figure then stepped up behind the poised elf and placed his arms around the slim waist. The agents couldn't see that the stranger then leaned forward and ran his tongue over and around Legolas' right ear, taking extra care with the elegant pointed tip, but they sure could hear the elf's resulting pleasure-filled purr.

"Ai, my lord! Do not tease me so!" Legolas whimpered.

"But I like teasing you," came the smug reply, accompanied by another ear-lick.

Another whimper of distress. "Please, my love," the elf begged. "I am aching for you."

"And I you." With a final kiss to the trembling elf's sensitive ear, the second figure looped his fingers into the waistband of Legolas' leggings and pulled them over his slender hips, revealing a pale but perfectly shapely butt.

"Monie . . ." Doggett began, but was cut off by an angry, "SHHHHHH!"

"Oh, yes – take me, my lord," Legolas was panting now, pushing his ass back towards the other figure. "Fill me with your mighty sword. I need you so badly."

The sound of a zipper being undone seemed to echo throughout the park. The agents got just a quick glimpse of the second figure's obvious arousal before he gasped, "Legolas, my beautiful elven prince," and thrust his hips forward. The elf's sob of pleasure-pain filled the woods as his lover began moving within him.

"I don't fucking believe this!" Doggett muttered.

Reyes' only reply was a moaned, "This is so HOT!"

"Did you say somethin', Monie?"

"Um, nothing," she replied absentmindedly, distracted as she was trying to get the useless binoculars to focus.

"Those don't work, remember?" Doggett reminded her.

"I could KILL those guys," she grumbled, still fiddling with the controls.

And she wasn't the only one – except that Doggett was preoccupied with the controls of their sound equipment, sure that there was some glitch in the system. What else could explain the weird dialog he heard?

"Meleth-nin," crooned in the melodic tones of the elf.

"Meleth-thenin-nin," replied the deeper voice of the other creature.

"What is hell are they saying?" Doggett demanded. "I've never heard anything like that before."

"It sounds . . . it could be Sindarin," Reyes deduced.

"What?"

"One of the elven languages. Listen . . . ." The words were soft and gentle and flowing, as magical and lovely as the creature himself, but the urgency and pitch indicated the couple was quite far along in their passion.

"I don't fucking believe this!" Doggett blurted out again, even as he continued to click off photos of the bizarre scene playing out in front of him.

"Neither do I," Reyes breathlessly sighed, the sounds of love and desire having a noticeable effect on her. After a few moments, she was no longer able to control herself and pounced on her startled partner.

"Monie . . . what are you . . .?" But Doggett never got to finish the sentence. Reyes pushed him onto his back, the camera flying out of the agent's hand. She then straddled her partner's hips, and began to feverishly kiss him.

At first, Doggett tried to maintain his professionalism and attempted to push her away. But as her kisses grew more sloppy and demanding, he pulled her closer, losing himself in her delicious lips. It was only with the greatest of efforts he managed to regain his sense of willpower, and pushed her away a couple of minutes later. "Monie! What are you doing?"

"I . . . I don't know," she stammered, somewhat in a daze. "I was . . . overcome."

"Damn elves and their charming spells!" Doggett sputtered. Then he remembered . . .

The elves!

But it was too late. By the time the agents looked up, both creatures were gone.

"DAMMIT!" Doggett cried out, slamming his fists into the grass. "I'm getting SICK of this!"

"John, I'm sorry," Reyes mumbled, clearly embarrassed by her lapse of judgment and control.

Doggett gave his partner's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "It's okay, Monie. 'Sides, we've still got the camera, right? Let's go see if Larry, Moe, and Curly can make heads or tails out of this."

**STILL LATER THAT NIGHT:**

"Thanks for doing this for us, guys," Reyes smiled, "considering the late hour and all."

Frohike handed her a mug of coffee and dropped into a chair between her and Doggett. "Yeah, well, we're only doing it because you promised us exclusive rights to the story."

"Byers knows what he's doing, right?" Doggett asked, nervously. "I mean, those pictures are irreplaceable."

"Relax, Dogbert," Langly soothed, slipping the agents' surveillance tape into his vintage Walkman. "Byers knows his way around a darkroom."

"Yeah, and he can develop film, too," Frohike snickered.

Langly snorted, "Dude, he's gonna kill you for saying that," as he slid the headphones over his head.

Doggett dropped his head into his hands, muttering, "I don't wanna know, I don't wanna know . . . ."

"Man, this is so great," Langly enthused, playing back the tape. "Really hot stuff."

"You understand what he's saying?" Reyes inquired, curiously.

"Bits of it," Langly admitted. "Spent a couple of semesters in college learning Elvish . . . ."

"Instead of doing something useful, like STUDYING," Frohike sniped.

"Yeah, well, who's laughing now, Doo-hickey?" Langly fired back. "I know what he's saying and you don't."

"Oh yeah, what's he saying then, hair boy?" Frohike challenged.

"Let's just say it's not something you'd want to repeat with ladies in the room. Sort of a Middle-Earth version of The Penthouse Letters. It's giving me a boner."

Doggett started shaking his head, his mantra getting louder, "I DON'T WANNA KNOW. I DON'T WANNA KNOW . . . ."

Langly, who seemed totally oblivious to Doggett's misery, continued on, "Damn, I can't wait to interview him. Is he as sexy as he sounds?" Reyes gave an enthusiastic nod; Langly gave a heart-felt moan.

"Yeah, well that'll be hard to do once the government gets their hands on him," Frohike grumbled, shooting accusing looks at the waiting agents. "Can you say, 'dissection'?"

"We're not going to 'dissect' him," Reyes assured the pair. "We're just as interested in learning about him as you are."

"Do you really think he's THE Legolas?" Langly asked, excitedly. "Youngest prince of the Mirkwood clan?"

"If he is, I bet he sues for a cut of the book and movie profits," Frohike chimed in. Finally noticing Doggett's distress, he inquired, "You okay there, Dog-man?"

"Yeah, just feeling my way through the Twilight Zone, that's all," Doggett muttered.

Langly plopped down beside him and threw his arm around the agent's shoulder. "Don't worry, guy – you're doing great work here. Mulder woulda been proud."

Doggett looked up at him, squinting. "Langly?"

"Yeah?"

"Where were you tonight around 10:30?"

"Kicking Byers' ass at PlayStation. Why do you ask?"

Doggett shrugged. "Wishful thinking."

"Just ignore him, Langly," Reyes piped up. "He's had a bad night."

Langly nodded in sympathy. "I hear ya'."

Byers took that moment to wander into the room, cradling a box carefully to his chest. As soon as Doggett saw him, he jumped up and demanded, "You got 'em?"

"Got them," Byers answered, placing the box gingerly on the kitchen table. Opening the cover, he took out the precious photos, and handed them to the excited agent.

"They're not very clear," Doggett complained.

"They weren't very good shots," Byers calmly replied. "I did the best I could with them. Some of the other ones are better quality."

"THAT'S Legolas?" Ringo squealed, grabbing at the picture Doggett held in his hand. After studying it for a moment, his brow furrowed as he commented, "He looks sorta familiar, doesn't he?"

"Well, you DID see the movie a dozen times, Ringo," Byers reminded him gently.

"Yeah, that must be it," Langly replied, thoughtfully, still staring at the photo.

Doggett handed off half the pictures to Reyes, who started flipping through them. Byers was right – most of them were useless. Whether because of the angle they had had of the action, poor lighting, or just plain bad luck that seemed to follow them, the agents once again seemed to have missed out on the evidence they needed. Then again . . . .

Reyes let out a yelp as she came to the last picture in the pile. It showed the two figures as they made love against the tree and it was in perfect focus. Because of the position of the couple, Legolas' face was mostly in shadows, but the other individual could be clearly seen. In his ecstasy, he had thrown his head back, and the baseball hat had fallen off, giving a clear shot of the person's face.

And it definitely wasn't an elf.

At Reyes' reaction, everyone had crowded around her to get a glimpse of the photo she held. "Oh my God – is that who I think it is?" Frohike mumbled.

As one, they all gasped, "SKINNER!"

**THE NEXT MORNING:**

Doggett was back to pacing around the office. "We've got to confront him with what we discovered."

"John, there's got to be a reason why he didn't want us to uncover this," Reyes replied from her customary seat on the edge of his desk.

"Yeah, there's a reason," Doggett agreed, as he stopped pacing and turned to face his partner. "He's playin' hide the Ballpark frank with a fucking ELF!"

"John . . ." she tried to placate, but Doggett wasn't listening.

"And worse than that, he hindered a legitimate investigation. Hasn't the man ever heard of conflict of interests?"

"Did it ever occur to you our boss may be in love with this . . . elf?" Reyes asked, gently. "Perhaps Skinner was just trying to protect him."

"By having sex with him in a public park?" Doggett fired back, incredulously.

"He could be enchanted. Remember how you felt? Maybe Legolas has cast a spell on him."

Doggett just glared at her. "Monie – I love ya', but you need to get back on your medication. Now, I'm gonna go see Skinner with this evidence. You comin' or what?"

Reyes crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "Only if you take back that medication remark. It wasn't very nice."

Doggett started to say something, stopped, shook his head in disbelief, and stormed out of the Basement instead . . . Reyes on his heels.

SKINNER'S OFFICE:

"You disobeyed my order?" Skinner blustered, glowering at his two agents. "My DIRECT order?! My God, it's like having TWO Mulders around here!"

"You're avoiding the question, sir," Doggett shot back, voice strong with righteous conviction. "Is that you in the woods with the elf?" he demanded, pointing to the pictures scattered all over the AD's large cherry-wood desk.

Against his better judgment, Skinner looked down at the photographic evidence. He couldn't well deny it, as much as he wanted to. With a resigned sigh, he sheepishly nodded his head.

"Do you have a relationship with this . . . being?" Reyes asked, kindly. "Or has he charmed you in some way?"

That comment earned a hearty scoff from the big guy. "Yeah, you could say that. He's very . . . charming."

"We're not here to judge you, sir," Reyes continued, softly. "We're just concerned for your welfare, and his."

Seeing the melancholy that seemed to have wrapped itself around his boss, Doggett was more sympathetic when he added, "What you did last night – it's far too dangerous to do things like that out in the open, sir."

"He's a wood-nymph, Agent Doggett," Skinner patiently explained. "They don't check into motels."

Trying to get back onto the subject at hand, Reyes gently urged, "How long have you two been . . . involved?"

"Just a few days now," Skinner confessed, "but I sometimes think I've been waiting for him all my life."

"Are you aware there is an elf named Legolas in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings books?" Reyes continued.

"Yes, I read them in high school," the A.D. replied.

"Is he the SAME Legolas?" Doggett pressed, almost afraid of the answer.

Skinner nodded.

"How is that possible?" Doggett wanted to know.

"I don't know," Skinner admitted. "All I know is his name is Legolas, and he's a prince of Mirkwood. Beyond that, I haven't asked him questions and he hasn't offered any answers. We spend our short time together," he paused, a flush brushing his cheeks, "well, we obviously don't spend it talking."

"How did you meet him?" Reyes inquired, curiously.

"The same as you – in the park. I was passing through one night on my way home from work, and suddenly he was there." Skinner's eyes took on a lost, faraway look, and his voice turned soft and reflective. "His fair face was luminous in the moonlight, and he was singing in the most honeyed tones I have ever heard. I fell instantly in love."

Shaking his head as if to dispel the vision, he took a deep breath and addressed his two stunned agents. "John, Monica – I beg of you. Drop your investigation. Please. Don't pursue this matter beyond what you already have discovered. He's done nothing wrong. Let him stay free."

Reyes tilted her head, regarding her boss, before prompting, "And you?"

Skinner released a deep, wistful sigh, "He has stolen my heart, Monica. I can no more stop seeing him than I can stop my heart from beating." He looked at them both with sad eyes. "Will you do this for me? For us?"

Reyes looked over at Doggett – Doggett looked over at Reyes, and they both nodded.

A grateful smile flitted across Skinner's face. "Thank you. Both of you."

Doggett put his hand on Skinner's shoulder, and gave friendly squeeze. "Just be careful, sir. We're concerned for you."

"Yes, please take care of yourself," Reyes added.

"I will, agents," Skinner assured them. "I will." And with a final pat on the back, Doggett and Reyes exited the office, leaving Skinner to figure out how he was going to get out of this mess.

**THAT NIGHT:**

Walter Skinner was standing in their chosen meeting place, waiting for his lover to appear. He didn't have long to wait, as suddenly Legolas was there, his approach so silent Skinner never even heard him. A breath caught in Skinner's throat at the magnificence of the creature in front of him, and he wondered once again how he was going to be able to do what he had to do. His heart clenched as he realized this was the last time he was ever going to see his beautiful elf.

How could he possible send him away? How could he say goodbye to Legolas Thranduilion?

If Legolas sensed the turmoil in his lover, he didn't show it. A smile split his lovely face, and in the poetic flowery language of the elves, he sighed, "My lord! You have arrived early tonight. I hope your wait was not a long one."

Skinner took a deep breath and announced gruffly, "The gig is up."

"I do not understand, my love," Legolas said, switching to English. "Is something wrong? Have I done something to displease you?"

"You could never displease me, Legolas," Skinner smiled warmly, his voice growing softer. "But we've been found out, my prince. I can't meet you here anymore."

A look of distress crossed the elf's flawless face, but his words were calm and curious. "Do you not still love me? Do you no longer desire me?"

Skinner gently cupped the precious face within his large hands. "Always, my dearest," he crooned tenderly.

The despair lifted, to be replaced by a glowing smile. "Then we shall meet again," Legolas vowed. "For you are the air I breathe, and I pledge my life to you."

Skinner sighed wistfully. "I like the sound of that, but I don't think it's possible."

"But why not, my sweetest love?" Legolas persisted.

"The costume has to be returned to the store tomorrow anyway."

"Thank God!" 'Legolas' exclaimed, the fey British accent instantly dropped to be replaced with Mulder's normal voice. "No offense, Walter, but I was getting sick of wandering about the park at night dressed as a fucking elf. Do you have any idea how many perverts hang around here after dark?"

Skinner lifted a curious eyebrow. "Are you lumping me in with those perverts, Fox?"

"Yeah, but you're MY pervert." At that, Skinner just chuckled while Mulder removed the itchy blonde wig he was wearing. Running fingers through his matted hair, he grumbled, "I still can't believe you made me learn Elvish, for Christ's sake."

"Figured I'd put that eidetic memory of yours to good use."

"And all those damn love songs!"

"They were very effective – really sold the whole thing."

"I don't even want to talk about how long it took me to glue these stupid ears on every night," Mulder continued to grouse. "And heaven only knows what that lustrous make-up shit is going to do to my skin!"

"You have your fantasies, Fox," Skinner answered, calmly. "I have mine."

"Speaking of which," Mulder leaned into the bigger man and smirked, "have you changed your mind about the Gimli suit?"

Skinner bristled, and declared, "I am NOT dressing up like a dwarf!"

The pout Mulder pouted was world caliber. "Party pooper."

"And before you ask, hobbits are right out as well," Skinner added for good measure.

"Damn, and I was really looking forward to being Frodo," Mulder muttered under his breath."

"Well, you've already got the feet for it," Skinner chuckled.

"Funny guy."

"I try my best."

A sudden inspiration struck Mulder, and flashing his best puppy dog eyes, he hopefully suggested, "There's always Boromir?"

"Give me a break, Mulder – you just want to blow the Horn of Gondor," Skinner joked.

"And that's a bad thing?" Skinner just glared over his wirerims at his playful lover. With a resigned sigh, Mulder tried one last time. "Well, what about Aragorn? Dashing hero? Future king of Middle-Earth?" He paused, eyes sparkling, and purred, "Leather leggings and kinky chainmail . . .?"

Skinner pondered it for a second as a grin inched across his face. Slowly, he drawled, "Aragorn . . . would be . . . acceptable."

Mulder's smile positively beamed. "You're the best, you know that, Walt?"

The grin grew into a smirk, showing off Skinner's rarely seen dimples. "I have my moments."

"I'll pick up the outfit tomorrow when I drop this one off," Mulder said, fingering his green velvet jerkin.

"Don't bother with the greasy wig."

Mulder pouted once more. "You are SO not fun!"

Laughingly, Skinner pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Be off with you, elfling," he commanded, with a friendly tap on his lover's shapely butt.

Mulder executed a perfect deep bow. "See you at home, hîr-nin." And with that, he scampered off.

Skinner looked at him disappear into the woods and sighed sadly, "Farewell, my fair prince."

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Meleth-nin: My love  
> Meleth-thenin-nin: My true love  
> Hîr-nin: my lord


End file.
